Finally
by singsongsung
Summary: No.7. Rory/Logan. “Give me whatever it is you, for some reason, need to give me at…Four oh three.”


**Finally**

**A/N: **So, yeah, I haven't dropped off the face of the earth. It may have seemed like I had, but, no, just busy writing (the novel I'm attempting to write, not fan fiction) and traveling and watching movies and other summer stuff. Trying to make the most of it before school starts up again and I forget about everything that doesn't involve cosines, research papers, or George Orwell. So here's evidence that I am still kicking. I'm going to delete **Hospital Floors **and rewrite it because a) Richard was supposed to be dead and b) ewww. That is my worst writing to date, and I'm going to blame it on how excited I was for the _Harry Potter _book. Alright, so I will be back some time around mid-September, I expect. This is fluff (yay!) and not angst as I so often write. As always, _please review. _Thanks and read on!

"Babe."

"Mm," she murmured pitifully. "Sleeping."

"I know," he replied apologetically.

She rolled over to face him. Her frown and bleary eyes told him that she was in full-out grouch mode. He knew better than to wake her up at four o'clock in the morning without a massive cup of coffee, and she knew that he knew better. She _might_ have been able to tolerate ignorance, but this was totally and completely different. "_What_?" she growled.

"I want to give you something."

Her eyes lit up the tiniest amount. "Pie?"

He was momentarily sidetracked. "Pie?"

She sat up a little. "Well, yeah. You didn't bring me coffee, which you know very well is dangerous, so I thought you'd at least have enough sense to bring me pie."

He didn't say anything.

"You didn't bring me _pie_? God, you're an idiot."

He shrugged and smirked. "I told you, Ace, you fell for my body, not my mind."

She rolled her eyes dismissively. "Give me whatever it is you, for some reason, _need_ to give me at…" she glanced at the clock. "Four oh three."

He waited silently as she looked at him expectantly. Then it dawned on her. "Four oh three. It's my birthday," she said softly. "Hey, why isn't Mom calling?"

"Because I called her last night and asked if she could leave your ritual until the morning."

She rolled her eyes again. "It's called a ritual for a reason, you know. Anyway, what _is_ it?"

"Rory-"

"Oh, hang on, I need coffee…" she kicked off the blankets and swung her legs over the side of the bed. He caught her arm and pulled her back, pinning her under him.

She smiled at him affectionately but said, "You did _not_ wake me up for b-day sex."

"Hey, what the birthday girl wants, the birthday girl gets."

"Uh-huh. Come on, Huntzberger-"

"If you insist," he interrupted, wide smirk still in place.

She ignored him. "Give me this mysterious gift."

He reached under his pillow and pulled out a tiny, black ring box and opened it up. Inside was a ring, the diamond delicate and small on a simple band. It was sparkling wildly, and she could tell just by looking at it that it was cubic zirconium. She looked up at him, eyes questioning.

He pointed to the hulking, extremely expensive rings that she wore on her left ring finger. One was the old passed-down-for-generations Huntzberger ring, topped with a gigantic diamond. The other was brand new but just as ridiculously expensive. The diamond wasn't as big, but there will little diamonds nestled in the band as well. "Those," he told her, "are you official, wear-out-in-public rings. But this is…I don't know. I went into Tiffany's and bought you the one you're wearing, and on the way home I was walking by this tiny store and I saw it and…I don't know, Ace. It just felt like this was the ring I really wanted to give you.'

She was going to cry. When, a little over a month ago, he'd asked her to marry him, she hadn't cried. She'd been too happy for even the happiest of tears. But now, as she looked at that tiny, inexpensive diamond… she could feel sobs gathering in her chest and throat.

"Rory?" he asked softly.

She shook her head as tears gathered in her eyes, gluing her lower eyelashes together and making them appear thicker than ever. She traced his cheek almost absently with her index finger, the gentlest touch. "You…"

He cupped her face in his hands. "I what?" he asked, leaning into to give her a kiss before using his fingers to wipe away the tears that had slipped down her cheeks.

She burst into honest-to-god sobs, but her tears subsided nearly as quickly as they'd appeared. "You're perfect," she whispered, her lips grazing his as she spoke.

His first reaction was to lighten the mood by saying, "So, do I deserve that b-day sex?" or "No, _you're_ perfect," in a joking voice. But her eyes were gleaming with something that didn't allow him to do that. He tried to reflect all that feeling back to her, because he didn't know how to express it verbally.

He watched wordlessly as she slipped off her other rings and placed them delicately on the nightstand. She held out her hand to him, almost shyly, a soft smile tugging her lips up. He slid the small, cheap ring up her finger slowly. When it was comfortably settled on her finger, she pushed at him slightly so that he was on his back. He watched as she settled against him, cuddling into him closely, curling into his chest. She placed her left hand over her heart and studied the ring. "I love it."

"I love you," he said softly, kissing her forehead.

She smiled to herself and twisted the ring on her finger. "This one weighs the most."

He laughed into the quiet of their room at night. "Ace, those other rings weigh about a pound each."

She shook her head against the curve between his chest and his arm, messing up her hair. He smoothed it out and waited patiently for her to speak. "Those ones weigh…tangibly. They're heavy and old and formal. But this one feels like…a promise on my finger. It holds all this emotion. It's almost like I'm wearing our love, and it's keeping me grounded."

His chest felt full at her words. He kissed her hair, smiling at the faint, perfume-y taste of her shampoo. It was almost unpleasant, but in a good way.

She buried her face in his chest and made a small sound that was almost a groan. "I sound like some stupid corny, overdramatic poet."

"No, you don't," he replied softly, pulling her closer to him. "Okay, well, maybe you do. But in a good way."

She rolled over so that she was lying on top of him, draped over him the way he loved it. Her hair brushed his cheeks, her fingers tangled with his, and her toes brushed his ankles. Their lips met, and she sighed into their kiss, a sigh of contented bliss that made his heart ache. He reached for the hem of her shirt, which was technically one of his, and pushed it up to her ribcage. He flipped them over and bent down to trace words on her stomach with his tongue. She giggled as her fingers tangled in his hair. "Logan," she said softly.

He looked up into her eyes, which shone noticeably in the pale light, a combination of the moon and the beginning of daylight that seeped in on the sides of their curtains. Her eyes were deep and dark and packed with feeling. He brought his body up to kiss her again. His hands wandered to the waistband of her pyjama pants just as hers hit the top of his boxers. She grinned and murmured, "Great minds."

The phone rang and Rory reacted immediately, gently pushing herself up to reach for it.

Logan used his weight to push her back down and covered her mouth with his before she could object. "No, no, no," he murmured in between kisses. "Ignore it."

She whimpered beneath him, arching her back, and he began to kiss her neck, sure that the phone was forgotten. But then she said breathlessly, "It's Mom, it must be. I have to get it, Logan. _Logan_…" She squirmed, moving slightly to the right. "Just one minute. Who else would be calling at this time?"

Groaning, he flopped down onto the bed and buried his head in his pillow. "You'd be surprised," he muttered. This was literally turning into the story of his life. Soon enough, he'd be on the warpath. He sure as hell wouldn't be the first one to murder his soon-to-be mother-in-law.

"Hey, Mom," Rory said, running her fingers through her fiancé's hair soothingly.

"Happy birthday, little girl," Lorelai replied softly, affectionately.

"Mom- not to break tradition here or anything- but didn't…didn't Logan ask you to postpone your call?"

"I did," Lorelai said as if Rory had just asked her the world's most idiotic question. "Look at your clock, birthday babe. It's four fifteen."

Logan hit his pillow with his fist and Rory suppressed her giggles. "Oh, right. Of course. Carry on."

"_Thank _you," Lorelai said pointedly. "I can't believe how fast you're growing up…"

Logan watched as she talked with her mother. They bantered about Denny's briefly, which confused him, but then they got back on track. Rory laughed lightly now and then, her teeth bright in the semi-light.

He felt the draft at the same time she did. She shivered slightly and laid back down under the blankets, curved away from him, toward the phone. The phone in their room was the only fun in the house that had a cord, and he'd been hoping that'd discourage Rory from picking it up when they were…otherwise engaged. But no, and he should have known.

He lay back down, too, just watching her, lazily drinking her reddish-brown hair and curve of her neck. He slipped his hand under her shirt to run his hand along the soft skin of her back, in between her shoulder blades and all the way down her spine. She shivered a little from his touch and he bit back a smirk.

"I wonder if the Waltons ever did this," she said softly. After a short pause, she half-laughed, "I love you, Mom." After a much longer pause she said vaguely, "Oh…just something. Mother! No! It was not something dirty!"

Logan grinned.

"He gave me a ring. Yes, _duh_, I know he already gave me two. He wanted to give me another one…just something special." She smiled to herself, thinking of the day she'd called Lorelai to tell her that she'd gotten engaged. She'd been in Asia so the time difference had been huge, and she'd ended up waking Lorelai at six o'clock on a Saturday morning- which was, of course, verboten. After her mother had ranted at her for a good fifteen minutes, she'd said simply, "Sorry, but I figured you'd want to know the minute I got engaged." There'd been silence for a moment, and Rory'd asked tentatively, "Mom?"

And then her mother had screamed delightedly, a scream that made Rory grin and laugh and cry and give details all at the same time.

It'd been one of the best nights of her life, and she treasured the memory more than her engagement rings themselves. The earnest, angelic look on Logan's face made her heart ache so badly she couldn't stand it. The memory on its own made her want to grin manically and sob insanely.

Eventually, she gently managed to steer Lorelai toward the end of the conversation, even though her mother protested hotly that she'd already had four cups of coffee and there was no going back to sleep. Rory reminded her that that was her own fault.

"No, it's your stupid fiancé's fault for giving you that ring that I don't understand the meaning of but is making you sound like a goofy teenager in love-struck bliss. It's his stupid fault for making me wait twelve minutes to call you."

"Oh, the horror," Rory deadpanned as Logan kissed her shoulder. "You couldn't have possibly had four cups of coffee in twelve minutes."

Lorelai made a disgruntled sound. "You've clearly forgotten who you're talking to. You're hopeless right now. Go back to lover boy and do whatever dirty things I'm sure he has planned."

"Thanks," Rory said wryly. "But Mom? Thanks for calling."

"Aw, angel," Lorelai said, and Rory could hear her smile. "Of course. I love you, you love-struck goof."

"You, too. Bye." Rory set the phone back down and slid back into Logan's arms.

"Where were we, Ace?" he asked with a smirk.

She bit her lip. "I…Logan, I…"

"You know, for a journalist, you can be very inarticulate," he teased.

She grabbed the pillow from beneath her head and threw it at him. It bounced off of his shoulder and landed on the floor. He moved over so that she could share his pillow. Her head hit the pillow with a lot of force, and he caught the anger and tears in her eyes. "I'm trying to tell you something serious."

"I'm listening, Ace; sorry."

She took his fingers in her own and played with them, moving them lightly. "I don't know how. I love you. But it's more than that."

"Trust me, Rory, I know what you're feeling."

She inhaled and seemed to stop breathing for a moment. When she finally exhaled, her breath was cool against his face. "You…you know me the way I'd always hoped someone would."

He smiled at her, and he knew from her expression that she'd got the tenderness in that smile. "Ditto."

She smiled beautifully. "Ditto? That's all you have to say? Jeez. You've blown me away with your romanticness."

"That's not a word, babe."

"It would be if you'd do it right."

"Oh, Ace. There are plenty of things that I do right," he said devilishly, kissing her sweetly, all lips and very gently. "You should get some sleep. It's your birthday today."

"It's started off pretty well," she yawned.

"I agree," he said quietly as he watched her eyelids close.

She fell asleep almost instantly, curled up close to him and looking innocent as ever. Her hand was tucked partially under her head, her ring touching her lips lightly. Logan smiled to himself. He felt his own eyelids growing heavy, but he sat up a little and forced himself to stay awake. He just wanted to watch her dream for a while. He thought of movies and love songs and poetry and it all seemed to click, finally, when he looked at her.


End file.
